After a fractious day driving up the M42, M6 and M5 (Toll), we checked into our apartment in Manchester, and perhaps wished we hadn't. I'll do a piece about the accommodation here later, so we'll gloss over that issue now and write about a lovely day out on the East Lancashire Steam Railway (ELR).
As a birthday treat for Charlie, his mum booked tickets for a day out on the ELR. It's based in Bury, just north of Manchester, and is accessible by Bee Network tram from the city. I looked at the feasibility of using the public transport, but with a change of tram needed, and tram line delays in the centre due to construction, we were looking at at least an hour, when a car ride was going to take twenty-five minutes. Sorry Bee Network, for four of us, the car is the winner.
I also opted to start the day from the railway's eastern terminus, Heywood, rather than Bury. Given the free and reasonably large car park, and it's relative proximity to the motorway, it seemed the better option. For once, I chose well.
The car park was not busy, nor was the platform as we waited on the train from Bury. Our plan was to board at Heywood, run the entire length of the line to Rawtenstall, then head back, but to stop in Bury for something to eat. While waiting for the train, I availed myself of the Whistlestop Cafe on the station's platform and had me a delightful bacon butty, a rare treat that was most welcome.
The train duly arrived, a line of fairly ancient Mark 1 coaches hauled by a very ancient, 130 years ancient, 0-6-0 steam locomotive formerly of the Lancashire and Yorkshire Railway. The sight, sound and smell of a steam loco is something special, and no more than at Heywood on this fine Saturday morning. I say fine, but it was raining just a tiny bit.
The loco was detached from one end the train, run around to the front and attached there, before hauling us off down the long hill into Bury Bolton Hill Station. Once the folks at Bury had boarded, the train set off north towards Rawtenstall, through the Irwell Valley and the bucolic northern English landscape.
The staff on the train were lovely, and made quite a fuss of Charlie. The ticket inspector let Charlie clip his own ticket, which he enjoyed immensely. Charlie also talked incessantly at a fellow traveller sat opposite, and the train's crew when they appeared, while DW and Emma enjoyed wine and crisps from the Buffet Car. I'm not sure how the others felt about Charlie's chatter, but he enjoyed it.
The run back to Bury was the same, with Charlie still holding court, but then that's what holidays are all about, isn't it?
In Bury we visited the Transport Museum across the road from the station. It's free if you have an ELR ticket, but even if we hadn't, their card reader was broken that day, so it was free for anyone. It's only small, but packed with all manner of transport goodies, including trains and buses, trucks and cranes. There was a modern, single-decker bus cab there that was for kids to get in and pretend to drive, and yes, it took a while to drag Charlie away.
We had a target eatery in Bury, but when we found it, it was rammed full and with no prospect of a free table any time soon. It was raining, so a search for another wasn't really working and we defaulted to a sit-down fish and chip place. Not the first choice for the ladies, but Charlie and I enjoyed it.
We had a bit of a wait for the train back to Heywood, the last one of the day. None of the little souvenir vendors attached to the ELR would take a bank card, and we had no cash, so few souvenirs were purchased. None at all, in fact. Bury is an interesting town, and there does seem to be a bit of pushback here against the cashless society. The station vendors didn't want cards, and neither did the chip shop, although they at least took ours rather than having us run out to get cash. Indeed, the ATMs in town were in use as we walked by, which was interesting because I haven't used one the whole time we've been here. Most places we've been have been card only, so Bury seems to be an outpost for cash.
People in Lancashire seem inordinately friendly, and will engage you in conversation at any time. The accents are brilliant, of course, but "Y'all right, love?" is a very common refrain everywhere you go. It stands in sharp contrast to the lengths people and businesses appear to want to go to protect themselves here. Perhaps the perception of problems is worse than the reality.
The run back into Salford was untroubled, and we even stopped at Birch Westbound Services on the M62 for a P&T stop, just because we could.
The morrow brings us the highlight of our Northern Tour, the trip to the Coronation Street studios down on Salford Quays. Charlie and Me won't be participating as we're going for a tram ride, thank goodness.
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